


Lost

by Celestiallitterateur



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Abused Harry Potter, Drarry, Good Lucius Malfoy, Good Narcissa Black Malfoy, Hufflepuff Ron Weasley, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Slytherin Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2020-10-19 18:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestiallitterateur/pseuds/Celestiallitterateur
Summary: Harry Potter was perfect, right? He was the Golden Boy, the boy who lived, the Chosen One, his life had to be perfect. Well, that’s what everyone at Hogwarts thought, anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic so any criticism is accepted!! Hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> WARNING: mentions of abuse

_"Get up!"_

_As he did every morning, Harry woke up to his aunt knocking the cupboard door frantically and screeching at him. He couldn't complain, at least she didn't hit him, she only shouted._

_He blearily opened the door and walked to the cooker, trying to block out Dudley's incessant rambling about how hungry he was. Part of him wanted to sneak some of the food and keep it for himself, but he knew better than to do that. _

_When he heard Vernon trudging down the stairs, he flicked the kettle on and rushed to make him a cup of tea. He'd forgotten to make him a drink, he hadn't done it in time. If it wasn't for his aunt watching his every move and listening to every sound he makes, he would've said every curse under the sun. _

_"What is this?" He winced as the voice grew closer towards him. Harry had just finished pouring the water into the cup when he felt a hand grab his shoulder. _

_"It's a cup of tea, sir." _

_He regretted talking back when Vernon spun Harry around to make the boy face him. _

_"Are you trying to poison me?" _

_Harry tried to pull away from the firm hand clamped on his shoulder, "No sir." _

_"Well, what is this then?" _

_"Tea, sir." _

_He finally pulled away from his grasp, sighing in relief. _

_"I don't like your attitude," _

_Harry didn't realise what had happened until he felt the burning on his chest and saw the empty cup in Vernon's hand. _

_"Go to your room." _

_Not needing to be asked twice, he ran towards his room and dived into the cupboard, peeling the shirt off of his skin as carefully as he could. It was horrid, he had to bite down on his lip until it bled to stop himself from screaming in pain. He-_

Harry awoke suddenly, sitting up and gasping for air. He'd been crying, he could feel the wetness on his cheeks. It was okay. He wasn't with the Dursley's. He was on the Hogwarts Express. Everything was okay. Usually, he would sit with Ron and Hermione but he was tired and fed up of everything, so he told them he didn't feel well and went to a different compartment to sleep in; they didn't question it.

As much as he feared being around the Dursley's, a part of him would rather remain at Privet Drive than go to Hogwarts. He didn't feel safe there. Dumbledore tried to interfere with every aspect of his life, making him partake in things he didn't want to do, risking his life. He felt unsafe, to say the least. At least he had Ron and Hermione at Hogwarts, when with the Dursley's, he had nobody.

He stared out of the window of the train, looking at the hills and the grass, resting his head against the cold glass. A fresh tear slipped down his cheek before he could wipe it away from his eye. He just wanted to be happy. He wanted to be loved. He wanted it to stop.

***

The first years had been sorted and Gryffindor had gained a fair amount of new students, though none that Harry recognised. Dumbledore droned on and on and on about nothing in particular before being interrupted by one of the worst people in existence.

"Hem hem," 

"Oh yes, it almost slipped my mind, Prof-"

"I wish to introduce myself, thank you. I am Professor Umbridge. I will be teaching you Defence Against the Dark Arts this year and I will explain my expectations if and when I teach you," She giggled annoyingly, Harry wanted to punch her, "However, there is a more pressing matter that I must inform you of,"

Whispers spread across the Great Hall, wondering what the "pressing matter" could be. A smile spread across Umbridge's face as she prepared to break the news.

"It has been brought to the Ministry's attention that the Sorting Hat takes student's opinions into consideration when sorting. Today, the new first years were the first children to be sorted by the new Sorting Hat!"

People didn't understand the severity of the issue until she continued.

"Now, I thought it would be quite unfair to make the rest of you remain in your incorrect houses. To resolve this issue, there will be a resorting!"

Outrage broke out, people were shouting and saying every single swear they knew, people were angry.

Harry just sat there, panicking. He knew he'd be put in Slytherin. The Hat had taken his opinion. He'd begged not to be sorted into Slytherin the first time around, so if he couldn't convince the hat this time, he had no chance.

Ron looked over at Harry and saw the anxiety on his face, "It'll be alright, mate, even if we get put in other places I'll still be your best mate," 

Harry couldn't help but grin at the stupid smile on Ron's face.

"Even if I go in Slytherin?" His voice faltered at the end of the sentence. He didn't want Ron to hate him, he didn't want to disappoint him. Ron's face contorted with disgust for a split second before he stopped himself and grinned at Harry.

"I don't care where you go, I've not stuck with you through all your crazy shit for nothing, I'm not gonna give it up because you get put with the snakes."

Harry smiled, glad he wouldn't lose his best friend. Hermione, however, just sat calmly, staring straight ahead and ignoring everyone. She was worried, but Harry knew best to leave her.

It was only a matter of minutes before people were being summoned by Professor McGonagall and they had to sit in front of the whole school. Harry only listened to what was being said when he heard names he knew.

"Granger, Hermione!"

The Hat remained on her head for quite a while, like it was struggling to place her correctly. Harry could see her getting more embarrassed every second, so he just put his thumb up and smiled, and he was glad when she seemed ever so slightly calmer.

"RAVENCLAW!"

She didn't seem too bothered. Harry thought she already knew, like how he knew he would be put into Slytherin.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

He apprehensively sat down and had the hat placed on his head. It only remained there for a few seconds before yelling out "GRYFFINDOR!"

He sighed in relief, smiling as he walked back to his table. If Neville got into Gryffindor, Harry should, right? That's the only thing Harry could think to stop himself from having a breakdown.

Other students got called up to the front of the hall but Harry didn't bother listening.

"Lovegood, Luna!"

She skipped up to the hat and smiled confidently. After exactly 5 seconds, it yelled out "RAVENCLAW!"

Harry told himself he was going to be okay, most people hadn't even changed houses, only a few. Malfoy remained in Slytherin, as did Parkinson, making Harry dread going there even more than before.

"Potter, Harry!"

Just like the first time he ever got sorted, whispers spread across the room, questioning where Harry would go. When the Hat was placed on his head he realised it was nothing like before. It didn't talk to him, it remained silent, not telling Harry anything, and that worried him.

"SLYTHERIN!"

He expected it, so he wasn't too angry, just scared that he was going to get beaten up or hexed. Originally, he planned to sit as far away from everyone as possible, but the only spaces left were next to Malfoy, Parkinson, some weird seventh year kid, and Zabini. Great.

Harry silently sat down next to Malfoy, aware of the glare Parkinson was shooting towards him. He wanted to get up and leave but he didn't want to make a scene. He could still hear loud and frantic whispers about "the golden boy in the evil house!", he tried to block them out to the best of his ability.

He stared at the table and didn't say anything. He didn't want to irritate any of his new housemates.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

"Oh Merlin, he looks like he's gonna shit himself." Harry didn't know who said it but he couldn't help but giggle slightly before shutting himself up again.

It took a while. The Hat sat quietly, perched on his head, and it was rather boring. Fred and George were the only people that could be heard, laughing at their brother and telling him he was going to Slytherin.

After 5 painful minutes, "HUFFLEPUFF" rang out across the hall, silencing the twin's laughs. Hufflepuff wasn't that bad, it just wasn't a Weasley house, Gryffindor was where the Weasley's belonged, or so everyone thought.

The rest of the sorting was boring. All of the surprises were mostly out of the way, Zabini got sorted into Slytherin, all of the Slytherins ended back where they stared (apart from a few who ran away crying), but there was a surprise when it came to a certain pair of Gryffindor twins.

They approached the Sorting Hat together and - much to McGonagall's dismay - refused to be Sorted separately; they compromised by making George (or Fred) get sorted and the other twin was allowed to follow.

Nobody expected them to be put in Slytherin.

"Alright, Harry!" They ran over, grinning like lunatics.

This was going to be a long year.

***

Snape was talking but Harry didn't really listen to what he was saying, if it was important Snape would shout at him and tell him again. It probably wasn't interesting, Harry could hear snippets of what he was saying, something about Slytherin pride and saying he was going to come in some nights to talk to students, nothing important.

"Potter, pay attention."

No shouting? No taking house points? No asking questions he didn't know the answer to? Harry felt blessed.

"Sorry sir." He spoke quietly, not wanting to anger the man.

"As I was saying, to all of the first year Slytherins, and to the resorted Slytherins," Harry shrunk into himself as the professor stared at him, "This is your family and we all need to stick together. To be blunt, other people will despise you for being in this house, because of preconceived ideas of what we are like. You will be treated unfairly. But we are the only house that looks out for each other. You will be safe with us."

After that, Snape dismissed everyone to do whatever they wanted to do but he remained there just to talk to any students who needed help. Harry had never seen him like this. It was nice.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!
> 
> WARNING:  
Mentioned physical abuse, implied rape, starvation

"So," Malfoy sat down on his bed and stared at Potter intently, "How do you like your new room?"

"Bit dark, isn't it?"

The exchanges between the two were terribly awkward, they'd never been in such close proximity for such a long time before. Harry was constantly on edge, worried that he was going to get attacked by Malfoy. Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle were also meant to be showing Harry around, but they'd appointed Draco as the leader. Harry was in the process of taking items out of his trunk when he heard Malfoy's voice break the silence.

"Potter?" His voice shook slightly, he was trying to hide it but Harry knew he was nervous.

Harry hummed in response so Draco knew he was listening as he continued unpacking.

"Can you look at me?" Harry complied, not wanting to anger the boy, "I- I just want to say sorry. I've been a complete and utter arsehole. And since we're going to have most, if not all, of our classes together and we're sleeping in the same room AND you're now in Slytherin," He took a deep breath, "I think we should be friends."

To say Harry was surprised was an understatement. Millions of thoughts were whizzing around his head, _what if this is a trap, what if he takes advantage of me, what if he-_

"Only if you're okay with it though. I won't force you to be my friend and I won't hold a grudge for another 4 to 5 years if you say no," 

He was smiling but Harry knew he was still worried. The thoughts of what might happen to him if he said yes were still screaming out in his head, but he'd never made logical decisions in the past, so why start now? He was going to agree but not without putting up a fight.

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you want to be my friend?"

He faltered for a second and looked down at his hands before looking back at Harry, "I guess you're actually kinda nice and an okay person to be around."

_Kinda nice._

_Okay person._

Harry smiled. He couldn't stop the grin creeping onto his face as he kept repeating what Malfoy had said in his mind. _Kinda nice. Okay person._ Such simple words might've offended anyone else, but to Harry it was like getting praise from the Queen.

He pretended to be deep in thought, stroking his imaginary beard comically. Obviously he was going to say yes to Malfoy, but he had to lead him on a bit.

"I'm not sure. I think I need time to think. I'll get back to you in a few days, possibly a week. Okay?"

The nervous smile fell from Draco's face and he had the same look of sadness as he did when Harry rejected him the first time. He quickly plastered a new (fake) smile on his face and nodded politely at Harry.

"Yes, that's fine. I-"

"Only joking! Of course I'll be your friend, you twat."

"I swear to Merlin, I was about to go to the common room and cry to Blaise, you complete and utter arse."

"You know you love it." He blew a kiss at Draco as he saw a pillow rapidly shooting towards his face, "You love it!"

***

Harry sat with the Slytherins, picking bits of food off of his plate and absentmindedly putting it in his mouth. He hadn't eaten much, all of the Slytherins could see that, but they didn't want to overstep any lines by bringing it up. Malfoy and Zabini had been putting extra food onto Harry's plate and trying to make him eat it but it was to no use.

Malfoy sighed exhaustedly, "Come on Potter."

"What?"

"Don't what me, eat your food right now."

Harry shied away from Malfoy and looked glumly at his plate. It had been less than a day since Harry had joined Slytherin but Draco had already noticed how little the chosen one ate.

"I'm not hungry."

Exasperated, Draco sighed and stared into the other boy's eyes. He didn't care about Potter at all, no way, he just didn't want a death on his conscience if Potter died from starvation.

"Why? Are you ill? Or do you just starve yourself for fun?"

Harry winced at the harsh voice as he grabbed a few grapes and popped them in his mouth. Contrary to popular belief, Snape actually cared about his students, so rather than feed his house the sugary junk the other students were fed, he provided fresh fruit, porridge, eggs, and toast.

Not wanting to push himself too far, he ate about 10 grapes before setting the rest of them down on his plate. Malfoy looked at him in disbelief, watching the raven haired boy wrap his arm around his stomach uncomfortably.

He knew it wasn't enough. Draco would just complain about it, tell him to eat more, he would be pressured into eating more and then he would throw up all over Malfoy, completely ruining the truce they had made.

"You need to eat more than just grapes." He said, looking suspiciously at Harry. Seeing that the boy was not willing to cooperate, he had to think of a new tactic. "Potter," He said firmly, "You are going to eat more or I will either take you to the infirmary or I will tell Professor Snape."

Harry just laughed mockingly, "Take me to Poppy, I go to see her at least once a week, I'm like a permanent patient, she loves me."

Draco was losing his temper. His father always said that was one of his worst traits. He got angry very easily and lashed out at people. However, he didn't want to scare away his new housemate after just one day, so he kept it together and took a deep breath.

"Look, Potter, I'm going to take you to Snape right now, and then you're going to be forced to eat-"

"Do it. I dare you. He can't force me."

Groaning frustratedly, Malfoy stood up and dragged Harry out of the hall by his wrist. He wasn't actually going to tell Snape anything unless it was concerning, he just wanted Harry to eat something.

They walked not far from the Great Hall and sat on the cold stone floor, Draco dragging Harry down with him. Their eyes met for a few seconds before Draco looked away, his cheeks on fire. He recomposed himself and stared at the boy who lived.

"Why won't you eat? I genuinely don't understand, you've eaten 10 grapes. Most children would eat as much as they could possibly cram inside themselves, yet you barely touch anything."

The boy remained silent, looking down at his lap.

He couldn't tell anyone.

It was the rules. 

He couldn't tell anyone.

It wasn't allowed.

He-

A hand gripped underneath his chin, pulling his head up so he was looking at Malfoy. The same soft hands wiped under his eyes; his breathing hitched as the cold hands came into contact with his cheeks.

"It's okay, Harry. You can tell me."

"I never knew Slytherin's could be so caring." The boy giggled weakly through his tears.

"Harry." He narrowed his eyes.

"Okay. I - uh," Harry took a deep breath, "You can't tell anyone, okay?" He waited for Draco's nod before he continued, "I - My aunt and uncle-" He stopped again, trying to calm himself down, "Food is a privilege. My aunt and uncle told me I didn't deserve that privilege."

Draco didn't know what he was hearing.

"What?"

"They gave me food just to keep me alive. They weren't completely useless, they didn't want me dead. I guess I agree with them."

"Excuse me? You agree with them? How?"

"I mean... I'm pathetic. I'm an orphan. I'm a fucking disappointment. I'm pretty useless. I don't deserve to eat nice things."

Malfoy stared at him in disbelief.

"Is that what you think or is that what they told you?"

The raven haired boy's silence answered his question.

"What else did they do?"

Harry shook his head at Malfoy, he couldn't tell him that. The blonde told him it was okay, he wouldn't tell the muggles what Harry had told him.

"They... Petunia wasn't that bad. She shouts at me, gives me a few slaps here and there, maybe a frying pan around the head if I do something bad. Dudley kicks the shit out of me. All the time. Usually his friends get in on the action, a few punches each. Vernon..." Harry let out a sob, clamping a hand over his mouth to stop himself, "He likes to use his fists and a belt. And he doesn't just hit me. He comes into my room-"

He couldn't take it anymore. Just mentioning their names made him vividly remember everything that happened, the memories flooding back into his head.

Arms wrapped around him, enveloping him in a tight hug. A soft voice spoke into his ear as he melted into the boy's touch.

"I won't let them do anything to you ever again."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was kinda tempted to abandon this but I looked at the comments and after reading the comments I was motivated to write another chapter, so thank you to everyone who commented!
> 
> I don’t think this chapter is good but I don’t want to keep people waiting, so here you go!
> 
> WARNING:  
Mentions of rape and abuse.

"What is the issue now, Draco?" Snape ushered Draco into a large armchair, gesturing for him to sit down.

Draco was unsure whether he should do this. It was betraying Potter's trust, wasn't it? He'd confided in him and now Draco was telling the teacher Harry despised the most. Nevertheless, he knew he had to say something, "It's about Potter, sir."

As expected, Snape sneered and laughed grimly at the mention of the boy.

"What dilemma has the nuisance gotten himself into now?"

Draco fiddled with the ends of his sleeves, looking down at the floor nervously. The way Snape talked about his new friend made him feel uneasy; what if he didn't take the issue seriously?

He took a deep breath, "I believe there's a problem with his family. They don't treat him fairly-"

"Is that what he's told you? The poor golden boy isn't worshipped by his aunt and uncle, so what? I can't believe the arrogance of this child."

"Sir!" He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before he lost his head, "This isn't a joking matter. His family - they're monsters, they-"

"Draco, I really do not have the time for this, I will take house points if you continue-"

"They beat him, Sev! The sick fucking monsters beat him! Is that enough for you? Or isn't that concerning enough for you? Is he just looking for attention because they don't 'worship' him, as you said?"

Feeling numb from shock, he only managed to mumble out "Draco-" before being interrupted by the raging boy again.

"Do you want to know what that sick bastard does to him at night? He rapes him! The sick bastard thinks it's okay to beat him to a bloody pulp and then, when he's at his weakest, force him to do something as vile as that! But, oh no, you know Potter more than anyone else, because you're an expert, you know exactly what's happening in his life!"

"Draco!" He didn't want to startle the younger boy but he saw him getting increasingly angry every moment that passed, "What do you want me to do about it?"

"What do I want you to do about it? I want you to sort it out! Get him away from them! He can't stay with them for any longer!"

"But what do you want me to actually do? Tell Dumbledore? He won't do much to help, he's finally gone senile and I don't know how much longer I can handle being around him."

Sighing defeatedly, Draco placed his head in his hands, "I don't know. You're an adult. You're meant to know what to do."

_You're meant to know what to do._

Draco thought about Harry, and he thought about Snape. He looked up to Snape because Snape took care of him and he knew that he loved him in a fatherly way. Harry never experienced that. He never experienced love. Lily and James loved him but they were cruelly ripped away from him, leaving him with the poor excuses for humans that he called his aunt and uncle. Neglect was what he was given when all he needed was love. When he finally had a good thing happen to him (going to Hogwarts), he had it ruined for him by people like Malfoy and Snape - and, of course, Voldemort. Snape tormented him for years, targeting him at every given opportunity. Malfoy ridiculed him simply because the boy had rejected him all those years ago and he thought too highly of himself to get over it. And Voldemort was self-explanatory.

Never in a million years did Draco think he'd feel pity for Potter, but here he was fighting for him. The thought baffled him. 

"I can do limited things, Draco. I can inform Dumbledore, but that is the extent of what I can do. I cannot take him away from them and I cannot yet determine whether he will be able to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays." He held a hand up to Draco when the boy stood up angrily, "I will, however, do everything in my power."

It wasn't reassuring for Draco to hear this. He had faith in his godfather, but the older man didn't sound certain about what he was going to do, and he knew how he felt towards Harry.

He thanked Snape before rising from his seat and returning to his common room. It wasn't easy, but he found Potter after walking around the whole common room. Surprisingly, he was reading a book (Draco never thought he seemed like the type to actually read anything), sitting cross-legged on the floor, his head resting on his hand as he turned the pages.

Draco sat down next to the boy, noticing how his glasses lay slightly crooked on his face and how his emerald eyes shone with excitement as he read.

"Potter?"

The boy turned his head to face Draco, a small smile appearing on his lips, "Yes, Malfoy?"

"What are you reading?"

He lifted up the book for Draco to see the cover. "Romeo and Juliet. It was my mum's favourite book. Well, at least that's what Remus told me."

"Ooooooh, what's that about?" Draco knew exactly what it was about, he'd read it nearly a hundred times before, but could tell that Harry also loved the book, so he wanted to hear him talk about it.

"So," Draco suppressed a smile when he saw the look on Harry's face, "There's two rival families, Montague and Capulet, and..."

Harry continued talking, but Draco had tuned him out, focusing on the animated way the boy talked and gestured wildly with his hands rather than what he was saying. He'd never seen him so happy about anything, not quidditch or Ginny or DADA. To say Harry was smiling was an understatement, he was positively beaming.

"...and it's so sad. I think my mum liked it because her and dad loved each other like Romeo and Juliet did."

Draco smiled and leaned back against the wall, "Well, Potter, I think you'll need to lend me that book in the future."

"It's so good. I could talk about it all day." _I could listen to you all day,_ Draco thought.

The night dragged on, Draco sat in silence while drawing on his hand with a biro (he found it with Harry's stuff), Harry continued reading. It wasn't an awkward silence, though, it was comfortable. Blaise and Pansy joined them after a while, chatting idly about nothing in particular, but every so often they would quickly slip in the fact that the pair looked cute sitting next to each other.

Even when Draco saw the boy smiling and looking carefree, his mind always drifted to the though of him looking weak and defenceless, and he imagined the disgusting things his uncle did to him. It still astounded him that somebody could do something like that to a child. It sickened him.

***

Aside from the rhythmic breathing coming from each of the beds, the dorm room was silent. Harry had been too tired to put pyjamas on, so he just lay in the clothes he wore after class. Being exhausted wasn't the only reason he didn't change, though; he was scared of someone accidentally seeing the marks that littered his body. He was on friendly terms with Malfoy, but Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise were still strangers to him - the last thing he needed was them finding out the secret that brought him so much shame.

Malfoy wasn't asleep. How could he be? The events of the day kept replaying in his head, Harry's face clouded his mind. Then his mind drifted to snape. What was the man going to do? Did he actually believe him? Would Harry have to go back to his relatives? No, no, Draco could reassure himself about the last question; if Snape couldn't sort out Harry's housing arrangements then Draco would take it into his own hands. But until then, what was going to happen to the boy? The thought of him living with his aunt and uncle made Draco feel sick to his stomach.

When he actually thought about it, he realised how strange it was for Harry and him to be friends. The pair had hated each other for years (although Draco never actually hated him, it was just an act) and they had been rivals since they met. However, they were now sharing a dorm and they had mutually agreed to be friends. It baffled him.

His thoughts, however, were interrupted when he heard a whimper coming from one of the beds. He knew for certain that it wasn't Blaise, nor was it Crabbe or Goyle, so that left one person. Harry.

As silently as he could, he crept from his bed towards Harry's, noticing how the boy seemed to be mumbling incomprehensibly. The closer he grew, the more he saw. Draco saw the way his shirt was almost completely soaked through with sweat, he saw how his face was contorted with pain, and he saw the tears streaming down his face.

"Harry," He was talking in a loud whisper, afraid of the others waking up and seeing Harry in that state, "Come on, wake up." He didn't think shaking or grabbing the boy was the best course of action.

Minutes went by and Harry was only deteriorating, not showing any reaction to Draco's voice. When the boy started sobbing loudly and gripping his chest, Draco hated those stupid relatives even more; "I'm sorry" was the only thing Draco could understand from what he was saying.

Deciding there was no other way, he shouted Blaise's name until he woke up (he knew there was no point in even attempting to wake up Crabbe and Goyle) and beckoned him to Harry's bed.

"What's going on?" Still half asleep, he spoke in a quiet, raspy whisper.

"It's Harry - he won't wake up. I don't know what to do."

This was when Blaise realised the seriousness of the situation. He stood up abruptly and headed towards the door.

"I'm getting Snape, just hold on for a few minutes."

So they did. Draco waited with his hands gently rested on Harry's hands, not knowing if Harry could even hear him when he told him that it was just a dream and that he was okay. He never knew this about the boy. Did Harry really deal with this most nights? Why hadn't the Weasel gotten him help? They were meant to be best friends but Harry had clearly been suffering on his own.

Draco was surprised when he felt his hands being squeezed.

"I-I'm s-s-"

"It's okay, Harry, it's okay."

The boy sat up in his bed, his whole body shaking with sobs as he quickly wiped his hands under his eyes. To say he was embarrassed was an understatement; he'd shown weakness. Vernon told him never to show weakness. It wasn't manly. He shouldn't cry. He shouldn't show his emotions. If he did, he was asking for another beating. It was wrong. He'd messed up. God, why did he have to cry? And to make it worse, it was in front of Malfoy. He-

His thoughts were interrupted when Malfoy wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a hug.

It was at that moment when Blaise returned with Snape in tow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! I might possibly write a short Christmas special but I'm not sure. Anyway, hope you enjoy!
> 
> WARNING: Mentions of abuse

"Sit down, Potter." Snape had led Harry to his office with Malfoy in tow. Blaise had begged to go, curious as to what was happening, but Snape had refused, saying it was only 'necessary' for himself, Harry and Draco to go.

Harry heard Malfoy mumble something and he couldn't work out what it was, though, so the safest thing to say was, "Shut up, Malfoy."

"Fuck you, Potter."

"Such a cunt." He huffed out as he sat down on a large, leather chair. He smirked at the look on Malfoy's face.

"Watch your language, Potter!"

Harry hoped Snape and Malfoy had missed the way he cowered for a second when he heard the professor's angry tone, he wished they hadn't seen him flinch slightly, expecting to be hit. But, of course, they noticed. Thankfully, they didn't say anything about it, they just sent concerned glances in his direction. Harry quickly recomposed himself, and stared back at Snape, "You could at least call me 'Mr. Potter', have a bit of class, sir."

Everyone in the room could see through his quip, they could see the panic still residing in his eyes, they could hear a tinge of fear in his voice.

"Okay, _Mr Potter_, would you care to tell us what happened back there?"

"Malfoy came onto me, sir, honestly, I'm as surprised as you are-"

He sighed, clearly getting annoyed, "Potter, be serious, what was your nightmare about?"

He froze. How was he meant to tell Snape? He only told Malfoy because he was in the midst of a breakdown, he never planned on telling the teacher he most despised. Should he tell him everything? Was he meant to lie? Would Snape tell everyone that Harry was so weak he couldn't handle a few hits? It wasn't worth it.

"Honestly, sir, I-"

"Potter! Stop being incompetent and just tell me what happened, unless you don't want my help!?"

Incompetent. That was the word that made Harry remember everything. That made him relive it. He remembered every time Vernon and Petunia called him that. He remembered how they shouted the words 'freak', 'worthless', 'disgusting'. All the times he was left, bleeding, on the floor, his bones broken and his skin bruised.

_He stood next to the stove, pushing a piece of bacon around the pan with a spatula, not noticing or caring that sizzling fat kept spitting onto his arms. He liked cooking. It was relaxing. He liked admiring what he had made. He just didn't like cooking for the Dursley's. They never let him eat a morsel of it, and he knew there would be grave consequences if he was to sneak food back into his cupboard._

_As he was getting older, he was allowed less and less food. When he was 6, he supposed they took pity on him, so he was allowed scraps of their food every 3 days or so. When he was 8, that got reduced to once a week. When he started Hogwarts, well, he was barely surviving on being fed once a fortnight. He hid it well from his friends at school; he applied a glamour before he got on the train every year, so to them, he looked relatively okay and healthy. Ron and Hermione never questioned why he barely ate anything at meals, or why he would sometimes storm off in the middle of a meal. Don't get him wrong, he didn't want them to find out everything because he knew that they would make a big deal of it, but he thought it would be nice if, just once, they asked him if he was okay or if something was wrong._

_Once again, he heard the heavy footsteps making their way down the stairs, each loud bang making his heart race faster. He knew that the man was angry before he even saw the fat, red face staring at him. In his mind, he told himself to run, to take cover, to get away from this man. But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't. Some people think that it's just as easy as running away and never seeing them again, but it would never work. He would never be allowed to leave the house (except for gardening and leaving for Hogwarts) for long enough to run away, and even if he managed to leave, what then? He was a 15-year-old boy with nowhere to go, he would have to either live on the streets or go to the police, and he would surely be returned to the Dursley's if he did that. He knew he'd always be welcome at Ron's house, however, he didn't want to bother him and his family - plus, he would have to explain his situation to Ron, and Hermione would somehow find out, and then the whole of Gryffindor would know, and then the whole of Hogwarts would know; that was not something he wanted to deal with. So no, he couldn't just run away from them._

_His mind was brought back to the current problem when he felt a hand the size of a shovel strike him on the cheek, the man looked even angrier than before._

_"Are you not listening to me? You're an incompetent freak, just as bad as your pathetic excuse for a father!" He grabbed Harry's hand harshly and thrust it onto the searing hot pan, the oil blistering his skin. Of course, he screamed out in pain, earning him another hit around the head as tears threatened to spill from his eyes. No, he couldn't let himself cry in front of Vernon, he couldn't. He tried to pull away from the man. He tried. And he tried. He pulled with all of his force to get away from him, but he only angered the man more._

_He didn't know what happened next. He didn't know if he'd passed out, or if what Vernon did was so bad that he'd forced himself to forget. All he remembered was sitting in his cupboard, sobbing with his hand against his chest, blood trickling from his forehead._

"Harry!"

His eyes wide, he backed into the corner of the sofa, staring at the blonde boy in front of him. His breath came in short, sharp bursts as his eyes quickly darted around the room.

"Harry," Draco spoke softly, gently putting his hand on Harry's arm, "Look at me."

He was going to get hurt. Snape was going to hurt him. Vernon was going to beat him when he found out about this, Draco wasn't supposed to know. He'd made such a mistake. Why did he have to tell Draco? Merlin, he regretted it. He-

"Harry, look at me. Look. It's okay." He grabbed Harry's shoulders gently, pulling him into a hug, "You're okay. Do you know where we are?"

He nodded, his body still stiff and his heart rate elevated. Looking across the room, he saw Snape. The man stared at Harry, an emotion on his face that Harry didn't recognise on him. Did he look worried? It was unsettling. He didn't like it. It didn't suit him. Harry turned back to Draco, staring into the boy's cold, grey eyes.

"I'm tired," He spoke emotionlessly, he was exhausted.

"Don't you want to talk about your nightmare? You can tell Professor Snape,"

He immediately tensed at the mention of Snape, his mind flickering back to what had just happened - the anger in the man's eyes was obvious when he shouted at Harry, and that was an emotion he'd seen far too many times.

Shaking his head, he sighed heavily, "I want to sleep." Slowly, he leant his head against the back of the sofa, closing his eyes, exhausted.

"Are you sure? You can talk to me instead," Harry could hear the hesitancy in his voice; it was understandable - just a few weeks ago, they both 'hated' each other, but now Draco was comforting him after he'd had a nightmare. Regardless of their history, Harry now felt safe around him, and he'd told Draco more in a week than he'd told Ron in 4 years.

His eyes quickly darted back to Snape before looking into the silver orbs again, "Okay."

His response was barely audible, but it was loud enough for Snape to hear. That's when the guilt fully hit him. He'd scared the boy. Draco had told him everything he knew about Harry's past, yet he still lashed out at the boy. When he watched the boy staring into the distance, unresponsive to Draco's calls, he did nothing. He didn't help. He caused the boy to remember all the pain he suffered at the hands of his relatives and didn't even help him. And now, Harry would rather talk to his rival of 4 years than a teacher - his head of house - he was meant to trust. Disgusting. After his childhood, you'd think he'd be more understanding of Harry's experience, but he seemed to forget what Draco told him when he was reminded of the young boy's irritating nature.

Any other time, Harry would've made a rude remark and pulled away from Draco, but now he rested his head on his shoulder as Draco put his arm around Harry's waist, helping him to his feet. At first, he tensed when Draco's slender arm snaked around his waist (even when he knew he was safe, his body would always react to being touched, it had been ingrained in his mind after all his years with the Dursleys) howbeit he slowly relaxed into his touch. Snape didn't hide the shock on his face when seeing the two boys so close and comfortable; he knew they'd made up but he didn't know they were _friends_.

The two boys set off, leaving Snape in his office as they walked back to the common room. Talking was scarce, they walked in comfortable silence for a while with only the sound of Harry's ragged breathing filling their ears. That was until they spotted a certain red-haired Hufflepuff (Draco still couldn't believe a Weasley had been placed in Hufflepuff) looming in the darkness of the corridor.

"Weasley?" He squinted, his eyes straining in the dimly lit corridor, the only light coming from both prefect's wands, "What are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

Malfoy took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before he made a rude remark about him. _'Did Weasley always have to be so stupid?'_, he thought. Could he not clearly see that Draco was with Harry? He ran his fingers through his hair before replying, "Well, as you should be able to see, I'm going back to the common room with Saint Potter. And you?"

"I'm a prefect now, remember? I thought you were meant to be smart."

He chuckled bitterly, his eyes narrowing as he stared at Ron, "Charming as always, Weasley."

Harry just stood there silently, his head still resting on Malfoy's shoulder, his eyes flickering shut for a few seconds before he quickly reopened them. He smiled a smidgen when he heard the petty argument.

"Hey, Ron."

"Harry, what are you doing with this git? Are you friends?" He only meant the last question as a joke but he was taken aback slightly when Harry said 'yes'. Draco couldn't stop himself smiling when he heard Harry confirm their relationship.

"Oh. You're actually friends?" He looked shocked when Draco nodded in response, "Oh." He remained quiet for a moment, looking at Harry and then back at Draco, "Okay then. Well, I guess you should be getting back to your dorms. See you tomorrow."

Harry smiled widely as they walked, responding with laughter when Draco asked what he was smiling at. He started to think maybe the resorting wasn't so bad after all.

***

"Why do you walk with a limp?"

"What?"

Harry was lying on one of the leather sofas, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at Malfoy from across the room, watching how the blonde boy dragged his fingers over everything he walked past as he strolled around the room.

"When you walk," Draco started, sitting down near Harry's feet, "You walk with a limp. You kind of drag your left foot a bit, you don't walk properly. Why?"

The question made memories resurface in Harry's mind. He knew what Draco meant the first time he asked, he remembered how it happened too. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before answering, "If a broken leg is left untreated, it becomes deformed, movement is limited and it can fuck up the muscles around it. Does that answer your question?"

Draco nodded before moving on to his next question, a more serious one which Harry knew was coming, "What was your nightmare about?"

He didn't want to answer. He didn't want to relive it again. He wanted to forget about it. But he had to tell somebody.

"It was... it was, uh, something that happened in the summer. The start of last summer. Probably around the end of July. I was making tea for Vernon, but I was slower than usual. So I didn't make it properly, how he likes it. I mean, I don't blame him, he was just punishing me for doing something wrong - which is fair. But he, uh, he shouted at me - which is fair enough, I deserved it - and he... he threw the tea at me. At my chest. It stung. He made me go to my room and for the next few weeks, I had to figure out how to not get an infection. I could've remembered something worse, though, so I'm kind of glad it was that." He regretted saying the last bit; now Draco knew how fucked up he was, he wouldn't want to be his friend, he shouldn't have said there were worse things than that. _Fuck_.

Draco looked at him in shock, sympathy in his eyes, "Is it okay now? Has it healed?"

Harry carefully thought about what he was going to say, he didn't want to tell Draco the whole truth and make him concerned. He spoke quietly, exhaustion setting in once again, "It's okay. I cast a healing spell not long after it happened so that sped up my recovery a bit. There's still a scar." He left out the part where he became violently ill for a few days as a result of infection (luckily, he managed to get it under control).

It was obvious that Draco wanted to know what Harry thought was worse than having boiling water thrown on him, but he didn't pry; he knew Harry would tell him when he was ready. Draco could see that Harry was tired, so instead of making him go back up to his bed and get interrogated by Blaise, he just whispered about nothing in particular, watching as Harry's eyes slowly flickered shut. Soon, he found himself struggling to stay awake, taking one last look at Harry before allowing himself to fall asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I'm actually quite productive when I don't have school (two chapters in one week, who am I?). Also, this is the longest chapter I've written. Conclusion: I'm actually decent at writing when I have absolutely nothing else to do.  
Comments are appreciated :)
> 
> WARNING: Minor mentions of abuse, mentions of physical injuries

Draco didn't know how or when it had happened, all he knew was what had happened. He discovered it when he opened his bleary eyes and realised that it wasn't as cold as it usually was in the dungeons. Then he looked down, and at his side sat Harry. At which point in the night Harry got up and moved next to Draco, curling up next to him, he didn't know. It was then that he truly looked at the boy, taking in every feature. He studied Harry's cheekbones, noticing how even when he applied a glamour, they were more prominent than they should have been - as if the skin was just stretched over bone. He looked at the boy's unruly curls and how long and thick his hair was, he doubted that Harry's disgusting 'family' ever let him get his hair professionally cut, it looked as if he'd used some sort of spell to cut it himself (don't get him wrong, it didn't look bad, it just wasn't 100% neat). He wanted to feel Harry's hair - not in a creepy, perverted way - it looked really soft. He also noticed the way his collar bone was almost protruding through his skin, it certainly wasn't healthy. He really wanted to feel his hair. Just looking at the boy made him feel sad in a way he'd never felt before. Draco's parents loved him, they had risked their life leaving Voldemort just so Draco could have a good childhood, Harry's aunt and uncle probably would've handed him to Voldemort themselves.

He had to feel his hair. It wouldn't be obvious. He'd just subtly run his fingers through it and go back to sleep, it would be fine. Slowly, he reached his hand up and placed it in Harry's hair, embedding his fingers in it. He stared down at his hand in confusion: how did Harry's hair feel so nice, yet it was a mess? Surely (Draco thought), having soft, luscious hair would be a result of actually caring for his hair and making it look nice? Initially, he planned to take his hand out of Harry's hair before going back to sleep - his mind was quickly changed when Harry leaned into his touch and the ghost of a smile spread across his unconscious face. He didn't have the heart to move it after watching how Harry nestled further into his side; his reaction to such a small sign of affection reminded Draco of everything he must've been through. And so, they remained in the same position for the next few hours, Harry curled up and burying himself into Draco's side, Draco's hand hidden in Harry's mane of hair, both of them sleeping peacefully.

***

Draco awoke for the third time to the sound of talking, he took this as a sign that it was morning. He cracked open one eye and looked around the room, his suspicions confirmed when he saw Blaise and Pansy making their way over to him. Quickly, he snapped his eye shut, hoping they hadn't seen that he was awake - he wasn't in the mood for being interrogated about the position he and Harry were in. Everyone's attention would be drawn to him and Harry if they moved out of their current position, so he opted to not move. Plus, he didn't want to risk waking Harry up from what seemed to be a peaceful sleep.

"Dray! We saw you!"

_Shit._

He reopened his eyes, greeted with the sight of them both standing in front of him. This was not how he wanted to start his day.

"What do you want?"

"Well," Blaise crouched in front of Draco so they were on the same level, "We want to know what you two have been getting up to," He eyed Harry's unconscious form, a smirk appearing on his face, "But that can wait until we go for breakfast. Come on."

"What time is it?" He yawned, his shirt riding up as he stretched his arms above his head. He didn't want to move, he'd be much happier staying on the sofa all day, but he and Harry both needed something to eat.

"Quarter to 8. Now up!"

"Don't speak to me like that." He scowled. How was he meant to wake up Harry? He started by removing his hand from his hair, resulting in Harry furrowing his brow and leaning his head further into Draco's side. When Blaise and Pansy laughed at this, he gave them a vicious look that immediately silenced them. Next, Draco gently grabbed Harry's shoulders and softly pushed him so that he was leaning against the back of the sofa (rather than Draco's body).

He lightly shook Harry's shoulder, not wanting to scare him. "Harry? Wake up." Thankfully, it only took Draco doing this a few times to wake him up; in his mind, he was running through the possible disasters that could have resulted if he'd done anything wrong (Harry could've had a breakdown, he could've triggered a flashback, he could've given him a panic attack, etc.).

"What?" Draco was taken aback by how gruff and low Harry's voice was; if he told the truth, it was hot. What was less hot was how his hair stood up in all directions and his glasses lay crooked on his face (Draco wondered how they weren't broken after he slept in them).

"We're going for breakfast, get dressed and sort your hair out before Pansy kills you."

As expected, Harry made no effort to move, "I'd rather stay here, thank you."

"Harry," He groaned, dragging out his name, "Please. Even if you don't eat much, just come with us. And make yourself look presentable. Please."

Was Malfoy pouting? Harry couldn't believe his eyes. In the end, that was what convinced him to get up from the sofa and head back up to the dorms, Draco and Blaise following behind him. He didn't want to go to breakfast and sit in front of a table full of food - just the thought of it was nauseating. 

He quickly put his robes on and, when all of the others were busying themselves doing Merlin knows what, he took his glamour off so he could check the progress of his wounds. His hand was still blistered and mostly white, it didn't look good whatsoever; he'd heard that very bad burns sometimes led to limb amputation, and he was not in the right mindset to be dealing with that (he hoped that the few spells that he had cast on it would prevent anything too bad from happening). The scar on his chest was not fading. It looked bad. He hated it, Merlin, he hated it. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes as he sat on his bed, placing his head in his right hand. _Why can't I just be normal?_ He _hated_ the way he looked. He hated what Vernon had done to him, he'd ruined him. He hated his own body. It disgusted him.

"Harry? Are you okay?"

He stilled when he heard Draco's voice coming from the entrance. Panicking, he wiped under his eyes with the back of his hands before hiding his burnt hand in his robes. "Yeah, I'm fine." He called back, offering a weak smile when Draco walked over to him with a look of concern on his face. Harry was unsure whether Draco was worried about the tear tracks on his face or how he looked like he'd lost 2 stone in the matter of a few minutes.

"Are you sure? You can talk to me."

"I'm sure." He felt like Malfoy was patronising him, but he thought he might be overanalysing it, he was probably just being nice.

Malfoy gave him an unbelieving look but didn't pry any further, just telling Harry to sort his hair out and meet them all in the common room when he was done. Personally, Harry didn't think his hair was that bad; he recast the glamour and rushed to the bathroom mirror, quickly running his hand through his hair before making his way to the rest of them.

Pansy and Blaise complained about how unruly Harry's hair was as they walked to the Great Hall, both of them trying and failing to flatten his hair just a _tiny_ bit. Draco just walked beside the three of them, smiling and sniggering when one of them shouted obscenities. He truly did like Harry now, he loved him like a friend - he hoped that Blaise and Pansy felt the same way too, Harry deserved it.

Soon, they arrived at the Great Hall and the four of them sat at the end of the table; Pansy glared at anyone who looked at Harry for too long or in a weird way.

"Oh shit." Harry groaned, looking at his schedule for the day.

"What's happened?" Draco looked seriously concerned until he realised Harry's reaction was due to looking at his lessons, not anything life-changing.

"We have Umbridge first lesson." He hid his face in his hands, making a sound of frustration that sounded quite similar to a cat being strangled.

Pansy raised her eyebrow at him, "She might not be that bad, we haven't even had her yet."

"Oh, she is that bad, I can assure you."

"And what makes you so sure about that?"

He almost couldn't believe his ears, somebody was actually defending that toad.

"Hmm, let me think, maybe the fact that she was at my disciplinary hearing and it was obvious that she had it out for me the entire time, and-"

"Wait, WHAT? You had a disciplinary hearing? What did you do? Kill someone? Merlin, Harry."

He looked ashamedly at the table, he shouldn't have said anything, they probably thought he was some sort of dangerous delinquent. "I cast a Patronus. I had to. It would've kissed my cousin otherwise." He thought he heard Malfoy say '_Should've let it finish the job_', but he couldn't be sure.

"Wait. They can't try and convict you over that. That's ridiculous."

"They can't?"

The three of them looked at Harry as if he was stupid, "No! It's self-defence! How would you even use a Patronus in a not self-defence way?" He'd never seen Pansy this shocked.

"I'm going to tell my father about this, I'll send him a letter. The Ministry is clearly biased because of what you've been saying about You-Know-Who, it's disgusting!"

He shrugged his shoulders, regretting bringing it up, "Don't worry about it. Anyway, I don't like her."

When he first said it, he hadn't expected such a big deal to be made out of it, he was just trying to complain. The attention they were all giving him made him uncomfortable; he knew they meant well, but he wasn't exactly used to being reassured.

"So, onto the next pressing matter, what happened between you two last night?"

Harry thought he meant when they went down to Snape's office, he was slightly shocked that Blaise would ask him something he knew was personal. Of course, Blaise was referring to the position that he found them in that morning.

"We just talked."

"Oh, you 'talked', sure, that's all you did." Pansy winked exaggeratedly, unable to stop a smirk appearing on her face.

"We did!" He felt his cheeks growing hot, his face as red as the Gryffindor crest.

Grinning, Blaise playfully elbowed Pansy in the side, "Yeah, that's why we found them practically inside of each other this morning."

_Oh. They were talking about that._ In Harry's defence for what happened, he was half asleep and he was cold. Malfoy was surprisingly warm in the middle of the night, so Harry just took advantage of his resources. However, Harry was unaware of what Draco had done, so whatever happened after Harry drifted back off to sleep was beyond his control.

His blush became more intense after every silent second that passed by. He couldn't take it any more. "Okay, I was cold! The common room is very cold and I'm basically a snake, so I needed a source of heat or I'll probably die!" _And Draco is surprisingly comfortable_, he thought before deciding that it wasn't the most appropriate thing to say.

They looked at him like he had three heads, "How the fuck are you 'basically a snake'?"

"Because I said so," He grinned at the impressed (Pansy), shocked (Blaise) and jealous (Draco) looks on their faces when he spoke in Parseltongue.

"Okay, moving on," Blaise looked incredulously at Harry before turning to Draco, "Next question, why was your hand in Harry's hair?"

It was Draco's turn to blush.

"I had no part in that!" Harry yelled, putting his head in his hands and laughing. A genuine laugh. It wasn't like the one he did when walking back to the common room in his barely conscious state. It was real, and Draco loved it. Neither Blaise nor Pansy missed the way Draco smiled fondly at him for a few seconds before turning back to them.

"I will admit, I woke up in the middle of the night, and it looked really soft. I had to, I couldn't help it."

They were all laughing at that point, earning weird looks from their housemates, but Pansy just gave them the finger and they instantly looked away. For the first time, Harry felt more comfortable in Slytherin than in his old house - he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this comfortable (don't get him wrong, he loved Ron and Hermione like they were siblings and his friends like Neville, Seamus and Dean were always loyal, but he'd never felt welcomed by the remainder of his house - they just liked him when he played Quidditch).

There was an apple sitting on the table in front of him, presumably placed there by Draco. He didn't want it, but he knew for the sake of his health and Draco's stress levels that he needed to eat something. It wasn't too bad. He got through the apple, it wasn't too bad. Draco somehow convinced Harry to have a tiny bit of scrambled egg, how he talked him into it was beyond Blaise and Pansy. He wasn't sure if the churning in his stomach was because of what he'd eaten or his anxiety for his first lesson. Either way, something wasn't good.

***

"Good morning!"

Silence.

"I said," Her bulging eyes scanned the room slowly, her painfully fake smile still plastered on her face, "Good morning, class."

The Gryffindors and Slytherins all responded the same, mumbling 'good morning' while slowly taking out their quills, ink and parchment from their bags. Apparently, this wasn't good enough for their professor, so she made them repeat it in a 'happier' tone. Draco and Harry shared looks of exasperation.

"Mr Potter," _Shit_, "Do not think that I missed that look that you just gave Mr Malfoy."

_Play dumb_, "What look, Professor?"

"Do not answer back. Would you kindly apologise to the class for interrupting their learning time?"

"Sorry." He spoke through gritted teeth; she was already proving his point that she had it out for him.

She sharply tapped the chalkboard with her wand, the students watched as words suddenly appeared in white chalk.

_'Defence Against the Dark Arts'_

_'A Return to Basic Principles'_

"Copy down everything that appears on this board and, please, try to keep up, I want you all to do everything to the best of your ability." Seriously, Harry thought the sound of her voice was going to make him throw up.

The room was full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment and the occasional whisper from some Gryffindor girls at the back of the classroom. When everyone had copied it down, her irritating voice rang out again, "Has everybody got a copy of Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts by Galatea Merrythought?"

Some students nodded, others mumbled 'yes'. Again, this wasn't good enough for their professor.

"Let's try again," said Professor Umbridge. "When I ask you something, I would like you to give me a verbal reply, for example: 'Yes, Professor Umbridge', or 'No, Professor Umbridge'. So I'll ask you again. Has everybody got a copy of Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts by Galatea Merrythought?"

"Yes, Professor Umbridge."

She smiled brightly, "Brilliant. Now, all of you turn to the first page and begin reading, make notes as you progress through the text. I will set you some review questions once we have all finished reading the first chapter."

Everyone opened their books but only a few people actually started reading and taking notes. Harry noticed someone out of the corner of his eye with their hand up. Umbridge stalked around the room, occasionally stopping behind certain students, watching them.

"Yes?" She finally spoke the person with their hand up. 

Harry whipped his head around to see who it was; a grin spreading across his face when he realised.

"Do you not think we should learn how to actually perform defence spells rather than reading from a book most of us have already read?"

"Your name is?"

"Pansy Parkinson, Professor."

Umbridge walked so that she was standing right behind Pansy, looking over her shoulder at the (lack of) work she'd done. The consternation was clear on her face when she felt Umbridge's presence. "Well, I am doing what the Minister of Magic has deemed most safe at this moment in time, and learning from textbooks is proven to be more beneficial for children of your age than exposing you to danger. Therefore, we will be working from books for the remainder of the year and-"

"The remainder of the year? What about our OWLs? How are we meant to do well if we can't even practise anything?"

"It is rude to interrupt, Mr..."

"Finnigan."

"Well, Mr Finnigan, you will find that with ample reading, you will find it easy to do the spells when doing your practical exam. No circumstance will arise where you find it necessary to defend yourself in my lessons - you will only ever have to perform the spells in your exam."

Many students had raised their hand at this point, but some people were getting impatient. Dean Thomas stood up from his chair in anger, "We need to be able to defend ourselves! You-Know-Who is-"

"5 points from Gryffindor. You-Know-Who is none of our concern. It is simply fearmongering, and whoever started the rumour, frankly, is ridiculous. He has not returned." More venom made its way into her voice as her happy facade slipped away. It was impossible to miss the way she looked at Harry, clearly aiming what she was saying at him.

"He has returned! I saw him - I watched him kill Cedric Diggory! Are you trying to say that he died for nothing - that he simply died of his own accord? Do you think he just dropped dead?"

"Mr Potter! 10 points from Slytherin and detention at 5 o'clock! I will not tolerate outbursts like this, wait outside of my room! And if any of you have anything else to say, I suggest you go with him."

_Wrong thing to say_, Harry thought. Although he could feel the anger welling up inside of him, he couldn't stop the smirk from appearing on his face when every student got up to leave the classroom alongside him. From the moment she said it, he knew she'd made a mistake; all of the Slytherins (at least the ones in his year group) supported him and his belief that the Dark Lord had returned, and he knew his old friends from Gryffindor couldn't betray him.

He thought it might look rather strange for a class of 20 pupils to stand outside of their classroom, but that was Umbridge's problem to deal with.

***

"Potter, would you care to explain what happened in your Defence Against the Dark Arts class today?"

It wasn't just Harry and Draco in Snape's office this time, but rather everyone who was in his class - the Gryffindor students were reluctant to talk to Snape but since Harry was the 'ringleader' (in Umbridge's words), they all had to accompany him.

"Well, sir, she was making us do written work and some students," He couldn't bring himself to incriminate Pansy, "were simply questioning if we should be doing actual defence instead."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and Harry was sure he heard '_Merlin help me_', but he couldn't be sure. "And that somehow led you and your whole class to wandering the halls?"

"Yes. She started saying that we don't need to defend ourselves in real life and then she started talking about Voldemort," Everyone tensed at the mention of his name while Harry just rolled his eyes, "and I got angry because she was talking codswallop so she gave me detention and sent me out and then she said 'If any of you have anything to say then go with him' and everyone followed me."

"Merlin, take a breath, child. She gave you detention?"

Harry nodded.

"For what?"

"Defiance, I'm assuming."

Snape took a deep breath, clearly trying to prevent himself from getting angry at the frog-faced woman; it was no secret that he hated her, it was evident from the way he looked at her whenever he was in her presence. "Well, all I can say is go to the detention and just try not to get another one. I don't have enough power to stop her from giving you detentions."

Sighing deeply, Harry grabbed his bag and began walking away, his class following behind him. "Bye, Professor Snape."

"Goodbye, Potter."

He wanted to scream. And cry. He couldn't bear being around that vile woman for an hour, or possibly more. A part of him genuinely thought he could commit murder to get out of it, but the more rational part of his brain said that he'd be sent to Azkaban, so in the long run, it was not a wise idea.

He didn't know if he was going to survive the day.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I’ve been distracted lately and found it hard to find motivation to write, but I really wanted to do this chapter. Sorry that it’s not very long, I hope it’s okay :)

He knocked lightly on the door, his heart pounding like a drum, deafening him. He'd never been this scared for detention before, not even one of Snape's. He wasn't scared of the woman, he thought she was pathetic, he was scared of what she might make him do - he was already weak from holding up the glamour constantly, any physical work would be impossible for him to complete.

"Come in."

She looked up from whatever she was writing before swiftly folding it up, "You're 10 minutes late."

"Sorry, I quickly went to the Great Hall to have some food, I must've taken longer than I thought." He couldn't admit that he'd been stalling, walking around everywhere that didn't lead to her office.

She smiled sweetly at him, "Not to worry. You can come back tomorrow and we'll repeat today's detention, with an additional 10 minutes, of course."

Great.

He sat down after she gestured at the chair in front of her. A feeling of dread settled in his stomach as he looked at the piece of parchment that had been placed in front of him - he was sure he'd be punished for forgetting basic equipment.

"Oh, Professor, I didn't bring a quill with me. Sorry"

"That's okay, you can use one of mine."

He watched as she pulled open a drawer and rifled through it; it seemed to Harry that she was looking for something specific. Awkwardly, he sat in the chair, tapping the floor with his feet and drumming on the desk with his fingers, unsure of what to do with himself. He stopped instantly when he received a sharp look from Umbridge.

"Here it is," Her sickly sweet voice rang through the silence as she passed him a strange-looking quill.

"Don't I need any ink?"

She grinned, a glint of pleasure in her eyes, "Don't worry about that, just start writing."

Harry was thoroughly confused. What kind of quill didn't need ink? A quill without ink would've saved him from all the scoldings from professors about his sloppy presentation; he would've given anything to have one in his first few years of school.

"What do you want me to write?"

"I must not tell lies. You will write it until I tell you to stop."

Not wanting to anger the woman, he immediately started writing. A sharp pain arose in his left hand, he didn't think much of it. He noticed that the ink was red (a rather strange colour to write lines in). It was only when he wrote another line, and then another, and another, that he noticed that the pain was persisting. Curiously, he lifted his left hand from below the table and looked at the back of it.

_'I must not tell lies.'_

He realised what was happening. Is she allowed to do this? Does she know that it does this? Has the school allowed her to bring this in? His mind was plagued with these thoughts as he raised his head to look at Umbridge. A shiver went down his spine when he made eye contact with her. That smug smile was still stuck on her face as she told him to continue writing.

As he wrote every line, he watched the back of his hand. When he wrote, it reopened the cuts. When he stopped writing, his skin closed back up; the only evidence of what he'd been doing was red, raised skin. It stung, sure, but it was nothing he couldn't handle - he didn't want to give Umbridge the satisfaction of thinking she'd hurt him. So he continued. He wrote line after line, I must not tell lies, I must not tell lies, I must not tell lies...

After two hours of it, his skin had stopped closing back up. Every time he wrote it, he'd make a bit more blood come out that the previous time. The pain got worse each time. As he wrote, he considered getting Vernon one of the quills for Christmas as a joke, before realising he'd probably be too scared of the magic to use it against Harry, and he'd probably get a beating for bringing more magic into the house. All Umbridge did was watch, not interfering. He thought she and Vernon would get along rather well (they both shared hatred for him). It was 10 o'clock when she finally let him go. At that point, the entire back of his hand was coated with sticky, wet blood, the skin red and irritated. He quickly ventured to the bathroom, scrubbing at his hand in an attempt to rid of the blood. When he'd gotten off as much as he could, he cast another glamour, just to stop people from asking questions.

His legs were like lead as he walked slowly back to his dormitory, his mind was blank and only focused on getting into his bed. Although it was risky, he was considering taking his glamour off as he slept; he didn't know how much longer he could pretend everything was okay when he felt like he was slowly dying. It felt like he was walking for hours when in reality it only took him 10 minutes to reach his dormitory.

He still managed to smile when he saw that Draco was sitting up in his bed, his legs crossed, still awake and grinning.

"What're you doing?"

"Waiting for you." Harry didn't even try to hide his smile - Ron always used to wait for him to come back from detentions before going to sleep; it was nice to talk to somebody after hours of being left alone with a teacher. "What did she make you do?"

He shrugged off the question and turned his back to Draco, starting to undress, "Just lines." It technically isn't a lie, he thought.

"For five hours?"

Harry nodded in response, "Yep, and I have to go back for another 5 hours tomorrow because I was 10 minutes late."

Draco looked at him sadly, "I feel bad for you. Good luck."

Harry grinned, pulling his pyjama shirt over his head, "I might die. What if she kills me? After I survive all of my battles against Voldemort, I get killed by a toad, imagine that."

"That would be rather tragic. Goodnight Harry."

"Night, Draco."

***

The next day dragged on. Harry, Blaise, Pansy and Draco went to the Great Hall to eat their breakfast, as they do every morning. They had potions first - unsurprisingly, Snape chose Harry to answer most of the questions he asked, but Harry noticed (or imagined) that he wasn't as harsh and belittling when Harry didn't know the answer. Then they had transfiguration, quite a good lesson overall, just a few minor Gryffindor/Slytherin arguments. Charms wasn't too bad, nothing eventful happened as it was one of the few classes that they shared with Hufflepuff (contrary to everyone's belief, Slytherin didn't actually hate Hufflepuff, in fact, they were the only house that they found tolerable). He had a free period after lunch, which he spent in the common room, doing Potions homework (yes, he spent his free time doing potions homework). Overall, it was quite uneventful. Until dinner.

"Hey, Harry,"

He quickly lifted his head and looked around, trying to find the source of the voice. His eyes landed on a tall Ravenclaw with dark hair and startling blue eyes sitting on the opposite side of the table, seemingly talking to a few of the Slytherins (Harry assumed they were friends).

"Uh," His eyes quickly darted to Draco before looking back at the decidedly attractive boy, "Hi..?"

"Anthony. I was in your Herbology class last year, remember?"

He felt his cheeks redden as guilt built up inside of him, "Yes, Merlin, sorry. I knew I'd seen you before." It was a complete lie. He'd never seen this boy in his life but he felt that it would be rude to admit that.

"It's okay, I was always at the back of the class, you never would've noticed me. Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Harry turned to Draco, "Are we going to Hogsmeade?"

Before Draco could respond, the boy had begun speaking again, "Oh, no, just you. Are you going?"

"Uh, I think so. Why?"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go with me? I thought we could maybe go to The Three Broomsticks and get a butterbeer together? Or..."

He stopped listening when the question had sunk in. A boy wanted to go out with him. He'd been asked on a date. Or at least he thought it was a date. Somebody actually wanted to spend time with him. A boy wanted to date him - a handsome boy at that. It baffled him. Was it a date?

"-and I-"

"Yes! Yeah, I'll go with you, sorry. I'd love to." He was unable to stop a grin from creeping onto his face when he spoke.

The boy returned his smile, "Great. I'll meet you there at 11 o'clock, Saturday?"

Harry nodded, smiling brightly. The boy - Anthony, Harry remembered - turned back to his friends and started to talk about some random homework. Meanwhile, Harry sat there, shocked, oblivious to the mashed potato that was falling off of his fork.

"Someone's got a boyfriend," Pansy teased, dragging out the word 'boyfriend' loud enough for everyone in a 10-metre radius to hear.

A familiar blush settled upon his cheeks once again as he ducked his head and hid his face, "He's not my boyfriend, I'm not into that. I don't like guys."

Pansy just looked at him suspiciously before turning to Draco, "So, Dray, how do you feel that your boyfriend is going out without you?"

"He's what?!" Draco turned towards Harry with wide eyes.

"I'm not his boyfriend." Harry knew his words fell on deaf ears when Blaise, Pansy and Draco all looked at him before continuing to talk. He just stared down at his plate, smiling, completely unaware of what they were saying as he twirled his mashed potato around with his fork. The thoughts of what Anthony might do to him plagued his mind - Vernon used to do similar things to Harry when he was younger; he'd promise to take Harry out, saying that he'd take him to the park or let him go shopping with Petunia, then on the day that he said he'd take him, he'd beat him senseless, saying that there had been a change of plan. Every single time, Harry stupidly believed him. He never listened to the voice in his head telling him that he was going to be punished again. Because he was a stupid child. He didn't realise how cruel people could be.

It only took a few moments for Harry to completely forget about Anthony and their arrangement - his mind was flooded with memories of what happened over the summer. He felt like he was drifting away from his body, he was losing control. He mentally cursed himself, couldn't he just be happy for once without having it ruined? A voice interrupted his thoughts, "Harry."

His head instantly snapped towards the voice, his eyes landing on Blaise, "Harry, look at me," He waited for Harry to meet his gaze before continuing, taking note of how quickly the boy's chest rose and fell, "Come on, we'll go to the common room, get you away from all this."

He wanted to protest, he didn't want to make them leave their food, but he could do nothing but nod shakily. Draco, Blaise and Pansy all rose from their seats with him, hastily walking away from their table and towards the corridor to leave. When they had just got out of the doors, black spots began to cloud his vision. Panicked, he reached out to the wall, attempting to steady himself and keep his body upright.

"It's okay, I've got you," Harry suddenly felt strong hands grip his shoulders, holding him in place, "Just breathe, Harry. Breathe with me."

And he did. Well, he tried. He tried to listen to Draco and he tried to follow what he was saying, but his mind kept wandering off, memories flashing through his mind. He knew he was safe, he was at Hogwarts, Vernon couldn't get to him, Draco would protect him. But was he actually safe? What if something happened to him? Vernon could easily hurt Draco if he needed to - and if he did, that would be Harry's fault. Merlin, he couldn't do anything right. Draco wouldn't want anything to do with him, he-

"Drink this," He felt a bottle being pressed to his lips and complied, knowing that he should be able to trust Blaise. Should he? Or was Blaise just like everyone else? It was too late, the drink was already in his system, if it was poison, it would already be starting to take effect. Unless he made himself throw up. Right. That's what he should do. Yes, he-

"Harry." The firm voice nearly snapped him from his thoughts. Draco. Was it Draco? He couldn't be sure. He wasn't taking any risks.

"Harry!" His head snapped towards the voice and soon realised it was indeed Draco, calmness washing over his body. He barely registered what he was doing as he wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled his body towards him, longing to be in close contact with someone.

"It's okay, you're safe, everything's okay," He managed to disguise the surprise in his voice as he hesitantly returned the hug, "Do you know where you are?"

Unable to speak, Harry just shook his head softly against Draco's shoulder.

"We're at Hogwarts, remember? In the common room," He started to remember bits of information but couldn't recall how he got to the common room, "You're here with Blaise and Pansy, okay?"

He slowly pulled away from the hug, leaning against the back of the sofa, his breathing still much faster than it should've been. His eyes looked between the three of his friends and stared at Blaise suspiciously, "W...what did he... give me?"

"It was just a calming draught, I have a box of them for emergencies. Didn't take effect for some reason," Draco said, reaching out cautiously to take Harry's hand, careful not to scare him, "I promise, it was nothing else. Do you want to go to bed or stay here?"

"I want to stay here." He was already tired and he was sure he would collapse before he reached his bed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry was conscious of the fact that Blaise and Pansy were still there and they didn't know what he'd told Draco, but still nodded his head. He looked up at Draco and back down at the floor before sighing deeply, "I just... I was thinking about how he asked me out. My mind wandered. He might be tricking me. What if he's just doing it to make fun of me?"

"He wouldn't do that, he likes you, okay? Nobody would do that, and if they do, there will be consequences, I can assure you."

He managed a small smirk at the thought of Pansy beating up someone at least a foot taller than her. Immediately after, the smile vanished from his face when he remembered his previous thoughts.

"I'm sorry, I was being stupid. Sorry. I'll just go to bed."

"Hey, no, don't apologise. You've done nothing wrong. Do you want me to get one of the elves to bring you some food? You didn't get to eat anything."

Although Pansy was trying to be nice, the thought of food made Harry's stomach turn. He closed his eyes tiredly, "I'm fine, I'll just go to sleep."

He heard a sigh from beside him and felt a new weight on the sofa.

"Harry, come on, you need to eat, you'll starve."

"I said I'm fine."

They all looked at him in concern before Pansy began talking, "Harry, you really need-"

"I said I'm fucking fine! I don't want to eat, okay? Is that a crime? Do you think I'm trying to starve myself or something? I don't need your fucking help, I'm not a poor little victim who needs protecting at all times! Just fuck off."

Tears had sprung to his eyes when he realised what he'd said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I just want to go to sleep. I'm sorry."

It looked as though Pansy was hurt but trying not to show it and that made Harry feel even worse, "I'm sorry, I'm so stupid, I shouldn't have said any of those things. I didn't mean it. I was just angry. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Harry, we understand."

He sighed deeply, tears of frustration still clouding his vision.

"But it's not okay, is it? I'm an arsehole. If anyone else said that to you, you would've sent them to the infirmary."

"Yeah, well, you're not anyone else, are you? Just go to bed, get some sleep, we can talk tomorrow."

Still hanging his head in shame, he muttered 'good night' to them, slowly walking to the dormitory before freezing suddenly, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"What is it, Harry?"

He turned around to face them, his panic clear on his face, "Umbridge's detention."

_Shit._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry it’s taken so long!! I’ve had so much online work set and between completing my school work and wishing to drop out of school, I’ve barely had any time to write :( 
> 
> Rest assured, I’m not planning on abandoning this fic any time soon, so if I don’t update for a while, I’m probably just taking a while to write. If I ever decide to abandon it, I’ll make it very clear so that you’re not left waiting, or I’d let somebody else continue writing.
> 
> WARNING: Brief suicidal ideation, internalised homophobia

"I can't believe he's going on a date! With him! What does that guy have that I don't?" He ran his hand through his hair for the 25th time that hour as he paced up and down the common room.

"Nice hair-" Blaise grinned, knowing he was irritating him.

"I have nice hair!"

"Good grades-" A smile crept onto Pansy's face.

"I'm at the top of our class!"

"And he's actually asked Harry out rather than planning to do it since he first met him."

Draco pouted, crossing his arms across his chest and throwing himself at the sofa, "It's not fair."

"In Andrew's - or whatever his name is - defence," Pansy walked over to Draco and fell onto the sofa, almost as exaggeratedly as Draco did, "You never said anything nice to him up until the start of this year. You were kinda a major dick. And how is he meant to know that you like him if you don't tell him?"

He looked down at his lap self consciously and picked at his nails.

"I don't know how to. It always starts well..."

_Draco sat on his bed, leaning against the headboard with a smile upon his face. Harry's head was resting on his shoulder as he told Draco about the book he was reading - this time it was 'Pride and Prejudice', another one of his favourites._

_"How do you even find books like this?"_

_"Well, I couldn't read well when I first came to Hogwarts, I could only read the basics that I'd been taught in my first few years of school. Hermione realised and, being who she is, took it upon herself to teach me how to read. She decided to torture me with books from the 1800s." He grinned at the memory, remembering how she didn't shame him or make him feel embarrassed - that's why he took such a liking to her. He never fully understood the books - some of the words were awfully complicated - but he enjoyed reading them all the same._

_"Why couldn't you read?"_

_The smile fell from his face slightly, "Well, my aunt and uncle couldn't risk people finding out what they did. The teachers started noticing bruises on me in Year 3, so that was a convenient time for me to 'transfer schools'."_

_Draco was once again reminded of Harry's past, regretting bringing it up, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."_

_"No, no, it's okay. It feels okay to talk about it sometimes."_

_He took a deep breath, maybe this was the right time to tell Harry. They were having a bonding moment, that's always a good time to tell people what you're ashamed of, right?_

_"Can... Can I tell you something?"_

_Harry's hair brushed against Draco's neck as he turned to face him, "Yeah, sure. What is it?"_

"And?" Said Blaise, drawing him out of his thoughts.

"And I can never go through with it. I crack under the pressure."

_His heart was almost deafening, beating like a drum in his ears. Was this really the best idea? No. But he was going to tell him anyway? He had to._

_"Draco?" He saw Harry turn to look at him again as a blush spread across his cheeks._

_"Shit, I forgot was I was going to say." A forced laugh came from Draco as he cursed himself mentally._

_Harry laughed (Merlin, that laugh, it would be the death of Draco) and moved slightly closer to Draco, putting his head back into the crook of his neck, "Well, make sure to tell me whatever it is you've forgotten when you're ready."_

"Why are you so scared to tell him? He's going on a date with a guy, so he clearly doesn't have a problem with gay people."

He sighed deeply, picking the skin from the side of his nail that was now bleeding, "I guess... I just don't want him to see me as weird. I know he obviously isn't homophobic, but what if he thinks it's weird that _I'm_ gay? And if my parents found out, it would be another problem entirely."

"Your parents? They wouldn't have a problem with it. They both love you, don't they? Your mother certainly wouldn't care, she loves Sirius and he has a boyfriend, so why would her son be any different? And, forgive me if I'm wrong, but didn't your father do some experimentation of his own during his Hogwarts years?"

Draco hummed in agreement, sucking the side of his finger to get rid of the blood.

"I will tell him, I swear. I don't know when, but I will."

Silence.

"I hope Harry's okay."

***

Harry was not okay.

He felt empty as he walked back to the common room. Slowly, he edged nearer and nearer to his destination, each step draining him both mentally and physically. Sleep. That's what he wanted. That's what he needed. He needed to sleep and then everything would be okay. Everything would be okay... It wouldn't. He knew he was lying to himself. In his sleep, he would be tortured and then wake up to his pathetic excuse for a life. It would never be okay. Not for him, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Golden Boy, the Saviour of the Wizarding World or whatever other ridiculous monikers people had made up for him. He would never meet people's expectations of him. People expected a hero: strong, confident, perfect. They didn't want a useless poof like him, scared of anything that moved. He was pathetic. Maybe it would be better for everyone if he wasn’t there. He was such a burden. Surely people would be happier if they didn’t have to deal with him and all his problems...

"Harry?" A feminine voice snapped him out of his thoughts, it was one that he hadn't heard in a while, "Are you okay?"

"'Mione? What are you doing out here?"

He barely registered that she had pulled him into a hug, his mind refusing to let him focus.

"Prefect duty. What are you doing?" She pulled away from him and held his arms, looking at him with concern, "You look ill."

He sighed heavily, "Just coming back from detention."

Hermione scanned him from head to toe, concern evident on her face.

"I'm walking you back to your dorms, and I won't take no for an answer. You're lucky it's me that found you and not a teacher, or you'd have _another_ detention."

Although he wanted to protest and tell her that he was capable enough to walk to his dorm alone, and that he didn't need to be treated like a 5-year-old, he felt too tired to do anything other than nod in agreement. He loved being in Slytherin and he loved spending time with Draco, Blaise and Pansy, but it was hard not seeing one of his best friends for so long - even though he felt like he was going to drop dead and would've preferred to sleep in the corridor, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to spend time with her.

Hermione put her arm around Harry's shoulders, holding him close to her out of fear that he was going to collapse at any moment.

"So, Harry, has anything interesting happen recently?" She'd heard about Harry's date with Anthony - gossip spread _very_ quickly in Ravenclaw.

A ghost of a smile appeared on Harry's face, "Uh, yeah. I guess. A guy asked me out. We're going to Hogsmeade together."

"And who's the lucky man?"

"Uh... I think his name is... An...dy? Ravenclaw kid. Kind of hot."

She snorted as Harry tried and failed to remember his name, "You mean Anthony?"

"Yeah... yeah. That was it. Anthony. Don't know his last name. Anthony. Anthony. That's a nice name. I like him. I-"

"Okay, Harry, shhh. You're rambling. Why were you in detention so long anyway?"

"Oh. Uh, it was Umbridge. She doesn't like me all that much."

"Whether she likes you or not, it's half past eleven, Harry. You've been with her for hours."

Harry put his head against her shoulder, "She's a bitch. Don't like her. Umbridge the bitch. Umbridge..." He seemed to be deep in thought as he stopped walking, "Umbridge... ha, more like Umbitch." He smiled happily (though tiredly) to himself.

"Harry! Whether you like her or not, she is a professor and is entitled to the same respect as the rest of the professors."

"Hmm. Still don't like her." He was still standing in the same spot and would've been happy to stay there rather than continue walking, but Hermione convinced him to keep walking.

"So, what did she have you doing?"

"Just lines. Hm. Anyway. More about my hot date. What do you know about him?"

"Not much, to be honest. He's very closed off. He's friends with the boys in his dorm, but I haven't seen much of him." She said with a frown on her face before a bright smile replaced it, "What I _do_ know is that the only girls who don't fancy him are lesbians, and even they can agree that he's attractive, and he is constantly bombarded by people asking him out."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. He must really like you to ask you out when he has girls - and guys - lining up for him already."

Harry smiled tiredly, speaking up again after a moment, "I'm not sure if I like him yet. Don't get me wrong, he's fit. I don't know. Maybe I like him."

"Could this have something to do with you being interested in a certain Malfoy?"

Heat rose to Harry's cheeks at the thought of Draco - his **stupid**, _silky_ hair that Harry always had the urge to touch, his **annoying**, **bony**, _soft_ hands embedding themselves in Harry's hair, the way he always wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders and held him close, so close that Harry could smell his coconut and vanilla shampoo, inhaling his sweet aftershave with every breath...

"...Earth to Harry! You okay?"

He shook his head quickly in an attempt to shake away any thoughts of Draco, "Yeah, yeah. Fine."

"So, based on that silence, I'm going to assume it definitely has something to do with a certain Malfoy. Why don't you just tell him?"

"It's not that simple, 'Mione. He'll hate me. I can't risk our friendship. He's not even gay."

"Are you kidding me?"

"What?"

"He's definitely gay! Are you oblivious to everything that happens around you? Even Ron has realised!" 

"I'm so confused." His head was starting to hurt with all the unnecessary thinking he was doing, he was too tired to be dealing with his thoughts.

"Oh my god, Harry. He's in love with you. He wanted to be your friend in first year, remember? He's always liked you, and I'd bet that over the years that's developed into love. Don't you find it suspicious that he always used to go out of his way to get your attention? What about when he'd yell across the Great Hall to you? Are you seriously telling me you never thought anything of that?"

"I just thought he hated me..."

"Oh, Harry, so young, so naïve," She laughed, her curls bouncing as she did so, and Harry laughed along with her as he realised how unaware he was of everything, "In all seriousness, I'm 99% sure that he likes you, I'm 100% sure that he's gay, and I really think you should ask him out. Go on your date with Anthony first, just to be polite - and you never know, you might want to go on another date. If you don't, however, you should definitely talk to Draco. You'd make a really cute couple."

He blushed again at her words before he stopped walking abruptly when he felt her stop beside him.

"What's happening?"

"We're at your common room, I think," She said as she gently lifted Harry's head from her shoulder and walked towards the door.

"Oh."

"How do you even get in? I suppose I probably should've thought about this beforehand."

He heard her talking but the words didn't sink into his head. _You'd make a really cute couple_ was the only thing he could think about. It kept echoing around his mind. Would they really make a cute couple? Or was Hermione just saying that to make fun of him? Was everything she said a lie to make Harry humiliate himself by asking Draco out? What-

"-rry. Harry!" 

He turned towards her, eyes wide, unsure of what she had been saying while he was stuck in his reverie.

"Hm?"

She sighed, looking slightly worried, "I was asking how we get into the common room."

"Oh, you have to say the password to the wall."

"...And what is the password?"

He tried to remember but nothing came to mind. This was not good. _They should really make some kind of system for forgetful people_, Harry thought.

"Don't know. Maybe if I speak Parseltongue then it'll open." 

He leant against the wall and stroked it with his hand, whispering "_Open_." He hoped he was speaking in Parseltongue rather than English. Nothing happened. "_Please_." He added, grinning when the stone wall began to move. It didn't cross his mind how weird he must've looked, stroking a wall and whispering to it as if it would talk back.

Turning back to Hermione, he pulled her into a hug and rested his head on her shoulder.

"Don't forget, I love you, Harry, so does Ron. We love you. I don't know how you're coping with Ced-" She broke off when she heard Harry's sharp intake of breath, "I don't know how you're coping with what happened last year. I hope you're not keeping it all to yourself. But Ron and I are always here if you need to talk. We love you, remember that."

He had to force the tears that had gathered in his eyes not to spill, "Love you too, 'Mione."

They remained in the hug for a few moments longer before Hermione slowly pulled away and patted his shoulder lightly, "You should get some sleep now. I’ll see you soon.”

He wordlessly walked into the Slytherin common room, ignoring the whispers about him from the few students that were still awake, heading straight to his dorm - the only thing he cared about was getting into his bed and sleeping for the next 2 months.

He knew that he should tell someone about what Umbridge was doing to him. He knew that. He wasn’t stupid. But who to tell? If he told any of his friends, they’d blow it out of proportion, and he didn’t want any more trouble from Umbridge if his friends somehow made it worse. Although Professor Snape had become friendlier towards Harry (which he never previously believed was possible for the stern man), it would take more time for Harry to see him as someone to confide in. Part of him wanted to tell Professor McGonagall, but he wasn’t sure if she’d still be supportive of him now he was in Slytherin - she’d probably just tell him to keep his head down and stop causing trouble. Dumbledore wasn’t even an option for him to consider, he didn’t care about Harry in the slightest.

Anxiety about what his future was going to hold plagued his mind - he was sure that the effect of Umbridge’s “special” quill would worsen as time went on, and the injuries he received from his Uncle were persistent and long-lasting; he’d need to find out how to heal himself adequately before his wounds caused serious complications.

All he could do now was hope for the best.


End file.
